


Higher Than Love

by verhalen



Series: Northern Lights [9]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Worldweavers - Multiverse
Genre: Amsterdam, Anal Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, Gay Sex, M/M, Maglor Smokes A Joint, Marijuana, One Shot, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 18:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18530956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verhalen/pseuds/verhalen
Summary: Set between chapter 3 and chapter 4 ofChains of Eternity. In Amsterdam, in 2012, Sören and "Alejandro" have a fun and passionate afternoon.





	Higher Than Love

**Friday, April 20th, 2012**  
_Amsterdam, the Netherlands_  
  
  
Sören and Alejandro had been in the Netherlands for five days now; Sören had spent the first four days visiting art museums and notable places in art history - especially the Van Gogh House, getting a personal tour of the building, a reverence in him as he saw the room where Van Gogh had stayed a few months in 1883. Sören couldn't believe it, "Starry Night" by Van Gogh was his very favorite painting, and here he was  _in that same room_ he'd lived in, everything preserved. It was one of the most amazing experiences of his life.  
  
Alejandro, himself, was amazing for knowing Sören would love this, wanting to give him that experience.  
  
Like Van Gogh, Sören was inspired by nature, and rural areas in particular, but unlike Van Gogh, Sören's paintings had a photorealistic quality to them... and were also surreal, with people, places, and things taking on a fantastic, magical, mythic life of their own. So after drinking in all that he could of the old masters for four days straight, Sören was ready to see more of Amsterdam. It was peak tulip season, and Alejandro smiled as he walked Sören through an explosion of color, Sören flailing, skipping around, and making happy noises like a big kid, even leaning in to smell the tulips. Sören sketched for awhile, visions dancing in his mind's eye of tulips and fairies.  
  
They stopped at a coffeeshop with a magnificent view of nearby tulip gardens, and the coffeeshop itself was magnificent, with stained glass windows and lamps. It was also notable for another reason.  
  
" _Kan ik u interesseren voor gras van topkwaliteit?_ " asked their waiter.  
  
Alejandro raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What did he say?" Sören asked.  
  
"He just offered us marijuana."  
  
"Well, it is legal here, and..." Sören ran a hand through his curls. "I haven't toked up in awhile. And it's 4/20, so it's, like... obligatory."  
  
Alejandro allowed Sören to smoke pot occasionally in their apartment in Reykjavik - it enhanced Sören's creativity, and gave him a better appreciation for music, and made Sören more sensual - but Alejandro had refrained, himself, his only vice being alcohol and even that moderately. Alejandro nodded, and turned to the waiter. Even though most people in Amsterdam spoke English - the lingua franca for the Icelandic Sören and Alejandro, the Brazilian - Alejandro still replied in Dutch, a show of respect to the host country.  
  
" _We willen graag het menu zien, dank je._ "  
  
Now it was Sören's turn to raise an eyebrow, chuckling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You." Sören leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, grin broadening at the way Alejandro blushed and grinned at that. "You're from Rio, but you fucking speak Dutch like a native."  
  
"Well, I lived here for awhile."  
  
"Ah, it's no wonder you know so much about the city." Sören cocked his head to one side, like a curious cat.  
  
Alejandro nodded, and looked out at the garden, but his silver-grey eyes seemed further away. " _Ik kan je een paar verhalen vertellen over waar ik ben geweest en wat ik heb gedaan, kleintje._ "  
  
Before Sören could comment further - starting with asking him what the hell he just said - the waiter was back with the menu. Sören recognized the kush varieties right away. "A pre-rolled of Pineapple Kush," he said, passing the menu back to the waiter, "and I'd like a, um..." He turned to Alejandro. "You lived here, and you know me, what do you recommend for my sweet tooth?"  
  
" _Appelbeignets_."  
  
"That. What he said."  
  
"What about you?" The waiter turned to Alejandro.  
  
" _Koffie verkeerd._  For both of us."  
  
Sören grinned, and then leaned on Alejandro as they waited; Alejandro wrapped his arms around Sören, nuzzled his curls, rocking him gently. They were lost enough in that tender moment that Sören startled a little when the waiter came back.  
  
Between sips of the sweet coffee, which even came with a little cookie, Sören puffed on a joint. After two hits he had a coughing fit, and by the fourth hit it was clear the pot was kicking in. He pulled out his cell phone and took a couple selfies of himself toking up, making funny faces into the camera.  
  
When the joint was halfway finished, Sören started working on his  _appelbeignets_ , delighting in them as Alejandro knew he would, and proferred the joint to Alejandro. "Are you quite sure you don't want any of this?"  
  
"I'll pass."  
  
Sören gave him the puppy dog face.  
  
"Oh no. Not that face."  
  
Sören batted his eyelashes.   
  
" _Sören_. Dammit, Sören... not the sad puppy eyes... my kryptonite..."  
  
Sören snickered. Then he said, "It won't kill you to take a couple puffs. At least once in my life I'd like to see you all stoned and stupid, what better place to do it here, since it's legal and it's 4/20 and we're here to have fun anyway?"  
  
Alejandro rolled his eyes, and then smiled and nodded. "All right."  
  
Sören passed the joint. Alejandro took a hit, and, from having watched Sören smoke several times, he held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. Alejandro passed it back to Sören, and then Sören puffed and passed it back to him, and Alejandro took two hits, coughing after the second.  
  
"Don't bogart that shit, man," Sören said, taking it back.  
  
They finished the joint together, and Alejandro stole one of Sören's  _appelbeignets_ , giving him a naughty look, and Sören playfully swatted him. "Thief," Sören said.  
  
"I bought it."  
  
"You're still a fucking thief... you...  _apple...big...nuts..._  thief."  
  
Alejandro almost choked on his mouthful of apple fritter, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sören... don't ever change."  
  
Sören wagged his finger. "Don't think that gets you off the hook, thief."  
  
Alejandro blew him a kiss. "I'll make it up to you."  
  
"You better, or I'll have you arrested by the... the... pastry police, or something."  
  
"Sören, there is no such thing as the pastry police."  
  
"Listen... I will paint pastry police and bring them to life, hauling you off to pastry jail, where you're forced to wear a silly hat and bake cookies." Sören laughed at his own joke. "This is the story of how the Keebler Elves got started. Enjoy your new life as a cookie elf, bitch."  
  
Alejandro was red now, tearing up, shaking with silent, full-body laughter. "You are  _so weird_."  
  
"You fucking love it."  
  
"I do."  
  
Sören and Alejandro got up, paid for their coffee and pastries and weed, tipped the waiter, and though they were both high, they managed to make it out of the coffeeshop, leaning on each other, and down several blocks to catch a bus.  
  
"Where do you want to go now?" Alejandro asked.  
  
"Are you OK to drive?"  
  
"I'm probably not too fucked up to drive, yeah."  
  
They took the bus to a car rental, and Alejandro rented an Audi for the afternoon. "I want to see the countryside," Sören said. "The same countryside that inspired Van Gogh."  
  
Out in the middle of nowhere, passing by a large stretch of fields, Sören told him to pull over. Sören got out of the car first, breathing in the air, twirling a little as he headed into the grass. He plopped down, and a moment later Alejandro joined him. Sören lay back on the ground, looking up at the clouds. Then Alejandro was laying next to him.  
  
They just lay there for awhile, enjoying the silence, the peace. Alejandro was deeply relaxed, and started flexing his fingers and toes, kneading and purring like a cat. It made Sören giggle, and hearing his laughter made Alejandro laugh too.  
  
A few minutes later Sören asked, "What are we laughing at?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Wow, we're high  _as fuck_."  
  
"I think we're higher than fuck."  
  
"How high is fuck, anyway?"  
  
"Too damn high."  
  
Sören started snorting from laughing so hard and this made Alejandro laugh harder. At last, Alejandro rolled Sören onto his back, claiming his mouth with a kiss.  
  
"I'm glad you're happy," Sören said, playing with his hair, nuzzling him, kissing him back. Then, with an impish grin, he teased, "Even if you are a pastry thief."  
  
"Oh, you." Alejandro kissed him, harder.  
  
The kisses got more heated, and soon they were feverishly undressing each other, not caring that someone else could drive by and see them. With clothes scattered next to them, hands roamed over bare skin, kissing passionately, hard cocks rubbing together.  
  
Then, mid-kiss, Sören's eyes opened, a look of alarm on his face.  
  
"What?" Alejandro said.  
  
"I know you don't like having your picture taken but I want to..." Sören stroked his face. "... remember this moment. Remember a time when you were completely happy."  
  
"You are so sweet."  
  
Sören fiddled with his phone, getting it ready. He held the phone over them, the other arm wrapped around Alejandro, and set the timer. He intended for them both to smile into the lens, but Alejandro surprised him by collecting their precum on the index and middle fingers of his left hand and sticking them into Sören's mouth, lips grazing Sören's neck, right when the camera went off. Sören heard himself moaning, overcome by the sensuality of it.  
  
He looked at the result. "Fuck, that's hot."  
  
"You're hot." Alejandro snatched the phone out of his hand and nibbled Sören's neck. "I want you  _now._ "  
  
Sören reached for the lube he habitually carried in his pocket, passing it to Alejandro, who poured it over his cock and into Sören's opening. Sören was already open from their lovemaking that morning, and Alejandro pushed into him easily. Sören gasped and Alejandro groaned once he bottomed out inside him, and Alejandro just paused, both of them overcome by the emotional intensity of the two made one flesh.  
  
Alejandro took his hands and began moving in him slowly, the two of them kissing passionately, drinking each other, breathing each other's breath; to Sören, the high making everything feel more real, it felt as if they were breathing each other's souls with each kiss. The sensations were much more delicious than usual, and they made it last for a long time, drowning in the exquisite sensitivity, taking their pleasure to new depths, new heights. Touching each other, every inch of flesh they could reach, smooth skin soft as petals, over the steel of their muscles, both of them like sculptures come to life. It seemed to Sören that they were making art right here, right now, a beautiful performance, a microcosm of life and death and rebirth, the broken pieces of their hearts, their lives, fitting together as Alejandro thrust inside him, putting them back as one greater whole.  
  
"I am yours and you are mine," Sören husked, kissing him deeply.  
  
That did it, Alejandro no longer being slow and gentle but taking him hard, wild, hungry, with Sören bucking his hips back at him, panting "yesyesyes", meeting his lover with his own hunger and need and  _passion_ , scorching them both. His nails dug into Alejandro's back, wanting this, mad for it, like he was craving a drug, like he was craving  _air._  
  
"Don't stop," Sören sobbed. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't you  _fucking_  stop..."  
  
"Mine." Alejandro's teeth went into Sören's neck. "You're mine..."  
  
"Yes. Yours. And you're  _mine._ " Sören bit him back, and Alejandro cried out; Sören could feel him lose it a little, just from that, and Sören gave a small, victorious smile.  _Yes. Mine._  
  
Tasting the metallic tang of blood, they kissed deeply, both moaning into the kiss, Alejandro continuing to pound away at him, almost like he was driving Sören into the earth, to root him there, root this moment here, never letting go. The pleasure was almost unbearable. They both needed to come, but they needed to  _be here now_ , make this last as long as they could, rising higher and higher, both of them shaking, gasping, panting, wild, frenzied, so much heat between them it was a wonder the grass wasn't set on fire.  Sören heard himself sobbing, wailing, screaming into the sky, the clouds, soaring in the blaze of glory in his release like the phoenix he was. When Alejandro pushed him over the edge into ecstasy, cum erupting all over both of them, Sören sang out his name like he was calling out to a god.  _My religion is you._  
  
" _Sören._ " The name was choked out, yet somehow a roar. Alejandro shuddered and Sören gasped as he felt Alejandro spending into him, hot cum like lava, the blasts against his sensitized prostate making his orgasm even better; Sören felt his hole throbbing, and Alejandro groaned and shivered again, feeling Sören pulsing around him. "Oh, Sören."  
  
"I love you," Sören said, taking his face in his hands, kissing him deeply.  
  
"I love you, Sören." He kissed Sören back. "I love you so much. I love you so damn much..."  
  
They lay there for awhile, and the breeze stirred them back to consciousness. Sören and Alejandro reluctantly put their clothes back on, but before they could get back in the car, Sören wanted to linger just a few minutes longer to watch the clouds. Alejandro curled up on him, dozing a little, the picture of contentment, until Sören nudged him and pointed. "Look, that cloud looks like a llama."  
  
"Hey, it does."  
  
"And that one looks like an elephant. They're escaping from the circus. Running away together."  
  
"Where would they go?"  
  
"I don't know... oh look, there's a sailboat. They'll get on the sailboat."  
  
Alejandro laughed. "You're so silly."  
  
"When I was a kid, I used to do this back in Akureyri, just lie around outside and watch the clouds, and make up stories in my head. I never really stopped. I never stopped being a kid, I think."  
  
"I noticed." Alejandro turned to him. "You have a beautiful innocence to you." He put his hand on Sören's heart. "Don't ever lose that."  
  
"The world has been cruel to me, but there is still so much goodness in the world, in people, in the experience of being alive." Sören squeezed Alejandro's hand. "If I'd successfully killed myself six years ago, I wouldn't be here right now, with you, seeing all of this. Doing... all of this." He stroked Alejandro's face, his glorious mane. "You told me you lived here before, so I hope it's not boring to you, but I really appreciate you taking me here, showing me all of this -"  
  
Alejandro put his finger to Sören's lips, and then traced them. He moved closer. "Sören," he husked. "Before I met you, I was very... weary. I've been through a lot. Not just what you know about, but there's more." He looked away, and then looked back. "You help me see the world through new eyes. You give me back a sense of wonder I lost a long time ago."  
  
"The world is an amazing place, full of little miracles, little beautiful details that most people don't see, walk by every day and take for granted." Sören pointed to the wildflowers near by. "There's an entire little kingdom right there. When I paint I don't just paint what's visible to the naked eye, but everything has a story. I try to listen."  
  
"You know what?"  
  
"What."  
  
"You're still  _really_  high." Then Alejandro smiled and kissed his cheek. "But you're beautiful."  
  
They walked hand in hand to the car. Alejandro put on music - he didn't like to drive without music on - and now it was Sören's turn to doze a little in the passenger's seat. But he was roused when he heard Alejandro singing along with U2.  
  
_I try to sing this song  
I, I try to stand up  
But I can't find my feet.  
I, I try to speak up  
But only in you I'm complete.  
  
Gloria  
In te domine  
Gloria  
Exultate  
Gloria  
Gloria  
Oh, Lord, loosen my lips.  
  
I try to sing this song  
I, I try to get in  
But I can't find the door  
The door is open  
You're standing there, you let me in.  
  
Gloria  
In te domine  
Gloria  
Exultate  
Oh, Lord, if I had anything, anything at all  
I'd give it to you._   
  
Alejandro was looking at him, singing to him, and the passion in his voice, the passion in those beautiful silver-grey eyes - the wonder in his eyes, like Sören was something miraculous - brought tears to Sören's own. He had never felt so loved, never felt so much love for someone as he did now, the sensitive, gentle musician who was the thief of his heart, his very soul.  
  
_I will always love you, Alejandro._  But what he felt, seemed even beyond love itself.


End file.
